[u][b]Siwon, Ettamri, Katya, Argen, Renault - Departure[/b][/u]

With their trajectory set, even the appearance of the mysterious, foul object within the otherwise clear waters was insufficient to dissuading Ettamri from continuing on. Prepared to continue their journey, the group of adventurers traveled down the river, Argen given the privilege of leading the horses. It was somewhat difficult for the silver-eyed man to start with, his own swift steps out of tempo with the plodding nature of the wagon, but practice made competent, and soon enough, they were all traveling at a decent pace. In terms of distance made, it was looking less and less likely that they would be meeting their goal, but at the very least, they could go down to the frozen swamps with relatively light hearts; Argen's vigilance during the scouting mission ensured that the (merry) band could now travel without fear that they'd be immediately jumped. Katya was sitting in the back of the wagon again, singing that annoying song that never had an end, and none of them had lunch yet, but movement suppressed their hunger pangs.

Soon enough, they would settle down for the night, and when their appetite awakened then? Oh boy, even dried crackers would taste delicious.

As the gray skies above turned bluer and bluer, the temperature fell as well, cold, dry winds slicing into exposed skin. The small priest had hopped off the wagon at this point, walking with the rest of the group to encourage some warmth through movement, but even then, the novelty of winter traveling had worn thin, especially when the remaining party wasn't inclined to make conversation at all. Perhaps Oscar would have something to say. Perhaps Muu would start up shit. It was cold and it was boring, and soon enough, it was snowing as well. Fluffy flakes fell lightly at first, enough to stoke some excitement from Katya; the young girl tried catching them on the tip of her tongue, blinking furiously when they got in her eyes instead. But then it began to snow harder. And harder. And harder.

Furs gained a second, white layer, while the tracks that they left behind were swiftly becoming less and less distinct. How long had it been since they had crossed over the shallow streambeds in the swamp, following the example of the wagon tracks Argen and Renault found? How many landscapes were there, and were the tracks still there as well? Even if they left extra landmarks now, an upright stick or whatnot, could that truly be seen in the worsening visibility? The skies darkened further, the winds growing colder, the snow falling harder. Around them, it was becoming harder to see what laid ahead. By the time night truly fell, it may be too late to build a shelter, but if they pressed on, doubling their pace, perhaps they'd get into the lightly wooded areas that Ettamri's map indicated, and thus, actually [i]have[/i] materials to work with.

[hr][u][b]Oscar and Muu - Returning to Nothing[/b][/u]

The camp was empty by the time the two returned, only snowmelt and scattered ashes indicating that the wagon had once been there. Ettamri hadn't waited for them after all. It was disheartening, but, if Muu were to be believed, also perfectly normal for the heartless warrior. Nevermind that though, the tracks left behind were clear enough. Oscar wasn't even needed to follow the clear footprints left in the snow, deep trails left by heavy wagon wheels. So the two set off, down the stream, following the tracks further and further down.

Everything was still going well, everything was still going smoothly. Shadowing the wagon's trail meant that they would be avoiding any possible traps set up in the snow as well, and if push came to shove, it was much easier for two lightly-equipped adventurers to go into hiding compared to a whole wagon, horses, and a big ass rude knight. Setting a good pace, the Bladedancer and the Ranger traveled smoothly down, noted how the iced over mud formed a more solid foothold than snow, enjoyed the sight of the river spreading out into dozens of silver streams, like an unraveling rope. Snow was beginning to fall at this point, soft flakes beginning to obscure the tracks, but now Oscar could shine; his eyes were much keener than Muu's when it came to finding irregularities in the wilderness, and though light faded further as the sun fell behind the mountains, everything was still fine. They would catch up soon enough. The wagon crew would have to stop before nightfall in order to set up camp, while the two adventurers could continue to travel and catch up. This was fine.

Snow fell more. They crossed the spread-out waters, following the trail. Visibility grew poorer. One had to shield their eyes from icy flakes now, but discomfort was an old, belligerent friend to all but the newest members of the Silver Moon Army. Oscar lead the way, Muu served as a second set of eyes. There was nothing to be concerned about, nothing to be afraid of.

Until, of course, Oscar picked up two [i]separate[/i] wagon tracks, splitting off in different directions, both accompanied by footprints that were quickly disappearing in the snowfall. It was getting colder now. They couldn't afford to explore both branches, but the swamp afforded little in terms of natural shelter as well. Visibility was worsening; even if the advance party could stoke a fire in such weather, could the two of them spot it through the heavy snow? What other choices do they have though? Life and death may be decided in what was essentially a coin flip.

But then again, the threat of death too, was simply an old, belligerent friend.

It was time to decide. What would they do?